Away From Harm
by freelancewhales
Summary: In which Kurt cares for his sick husband and daughter. Set in the same 'verse as Tell Me When and Nothing In My Way, but they are not necessary to read this fic.


One of the worst things about having a sick kid, Kurt thinks as he walks through the front door, is when the germs get spread and you end up with _two _sick kids. Or when the second sick kid is not a child but one _very _adult Blaine Anderson. Kurt frowns as he takes in the mess of his living room: clothes strewn about, dirty tissues scrunched up on the coffee table, a bottle of cough syrup on the floor, and _oh, gross, _is that a bucket full of vomit? Kurt cringes and walks further into the germy room.

However the sight he sees on the couch is enough to make Kurt forget about the mess. Blaine is lying on his back on their couch with their daughter sleeping on his torso, her sweaty face nuzzled into his armpit. Strong arms are anchoring the five year old to Blaine, and Kurt notices the dark circles under his eyes. My poor babies, Kurt thinks as he brushes curls off Blaine's forehead, noting how hot his husband feels.

Dropping to his knees, Kurt rubs a hand over Blaine's shoulder until he wakes. Glassy eyes blink up at Kurt, and he instantly feels guilty for making Blaine look after Georgia when he was clearly just as sick as she was.

"Hi, honey. How are you feeling?" Kurt asks, rubbing a hand over his daughter's back.

"Wonderful, hubby. Just plain peachy," Blaine replied, trying to stiffen a chesty cough. Kurt cringes as he watches Blaine's body jolt, Georgia being roused from her nap in the process. Her unfocused eyes dart around the room, and Kurt is quick to scoop her up and deposit her into a recliner chair. Kurt hears Blaine's coughs continue and tries not to think about how he is the _worst husband ever. _

"How are you feeling, sweetheart?" Kurt asks as he tucks his daughter into the recliner; fluffing her pillows and smoothing down her curls. She starts to cry, and Kurt sits down next to her, shushing her and giving his daughter the best daddy hugs she could ever receive. Behind him, Blaine dashes to the bathroom and starts to heave.

Grabbing the thermometer from the coffee table, Kurt quickly sticks it in Georgia's ear, soothing her as she continues to cry. Kurt frowns as the tiny machine beeps and reads 101.8. His baby was sick.

"Stay there, honey. I'm just grabbing the Tylenol."

Kurt races into the kitchen, searching through the kitchen drawers to find an empty medicine cup, and pours Georgia a dose of children's Tylenol. Kurt fills Georgia's favorite cup with water and walks back into the living room to see Georgia already falling back to sleep.

"Hey Georgie Girl, daddy needs you to take this medicine, okay? It will make you feel better, I promise."

Kurt hands her the pale medicine, and Georgia takes it with shaky hands, her blotchy face scrunching up with distaste. She quickly takes the cup of water and rinses her mouth out, spiting the water into the bucket that _definetly _had vomit in it. Gross.

Sitting next to his daughter, Kurt tucks her back into her blanket cocoon and kisses her forehead.

"Do you want to go back to sleep?" Georgia nodded and curled in on herself, and looked up to Kurt with her watery eyes.

"Can you tickle my back, daddy?" She asks in a timid voice.

"Of course, sweetie."

Kurt moves his hand to Georgia's back, lightly tracing his fingers up and down her warm back. She was asleep within minutes, and it was then that Kurt notices that Blaine had returned.

Kurt sits next to his husband, putting one hand on Blaine's hip and the other on his forehead. He felt just as warm as Georgia did.

"I'm sorry that I made you stay home with her. You're just as sick and need someone to look after you."

Blaine lifts a finger to Kurt's lips, and sags against his husband.

"Do you think you have a stomach bug, or what G has?"

"What G's got. I'm only throwing up because I'm coughing so much." Kurt frowns and rubs a hand on Blaine's chest.

They sit in silence; Blaine with his eyes shut and Kurt with his eyes flicking between his daughter and husband. Georgia is dozing, and Blaine is just enjoying the adult company.

"Summer flues suck," Blaine croaks out, and Kurt gives his husband a small smile.

"B, I'm sorry that I wasn't here for you both today," Kurt apologizes again, and Blaine looks up at his guilty husband.

"I am on a three month holiday, Kurt. What am I supposed to do? Sit around doing nothing while you look after our sick daughter? That doesn't seem fair to me," Blaine points out.

"But you're sick too, baby. I shouldn't have left you _both _at home sick."

"Kurt, I'm a big boy who is more than capable of looking after myself. It's our little girl who needs the looking after." Kurt and Blaine look over at their daughter, her face pinched but looking peaceful.

"Do you want some dinner, gorgeous?" Kurt asks his husband, watching as his eyebrows shoot up.

"Gorgeous? At a time like this? Seriously, Kurt, _Blaine_ will do just fine. I know that what I am looking like right now is _far _from gorgeous."

Kurt smiles, leaning down to place a chaste kiss on his husband's warm forehead. "You will always be gorgeous to me, Blaine."


End file.
